


Meetings along the way to Rebellion

by LCWells



Series: Star Wars [3]
Category: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:12:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8124826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LCWells/pseuds/LCWells
Summary: It was a long twenty years between the announcement of the Empire and the destruction of the first Death Star. Mon Mothma fled Coruscant after the assassination attempt on her life and never expected to see Crix Madine, the Corellian officer who'd saved her ever again. Fate (or the Force) had a way of intervening.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the same series as "For The Good of The Galaxy", "Proof of Death" and "Aftermath on Coruscant."

Mon Mothma was pleased to see her husband shining with happiness. The exhibit was one of his more successful shows.

She saw an Imperial officer and almost stepped back into the shadows of the gallery. What was one of them doing here? His stance looked familiar. Was he someone from the old days on Coruscant before she came back to Chandrila? She'd known so many people over the years. 

Automatically she started to assess the man -- his status, his usefulness, how dangerous he was -- as she'd learned to do years ago on Coruscant. It's been quiet since I married -- an Imperial peace. 

A tiny woman, her silver hair fashionably dressed with the latest in perfume jets, laid her hand on the officer's arm. He turned, looked down at her, showing a familiar profile. Crix?

"Do you know them?" her husband asked unexpectedly appearing at her side. "I've had an interesting talk with the woman. She's quite knowledgeable about the art market."

"Then why's she with him?" Mothma murmured, and this time he did catch her reaction. He cocked his head. "I know him, Jei. He saved my life on Coruscant."

Mon Jei Greiv started, his flash of wariness obvious only to his wife, then he relaxed as curiosity prevailed. "Is that the Corellian, then?"

"Yes -- but he's obviously risen into the Empire's forces," she said, only a trace of sadness in her voice. "Can you see what his rank is?"

"Captain. She - Jelda - said he was just made a captain," Jei replied. "He's in the Special Forces."

"Putting down rebellions," Mothma answered tartly. 

Her husband looked around to see if anyone had picked up on her tone. "Not every outbreak is against the Empire, Ma. Even Nuknog's problem with the food needed the Empire's help to solve it."

"Nuknog's problem was that they'd been left behind after the mining coalition dissolved, leaving their former 'employees' stranded. That problem should have been solved, politically, centuries ago -- long before the troops were necessary for this last riot," she replied forcefully, hearing her Senatorial voice rise, knowing she had broken her promise one more time. 

And she saw, with a trace of embarrassment, that her voice had carried; people turned momentarily towards her and Jei, including the Imperial couple. They turned to look her way, silver and black and curious. The height difference between them made him seem protective, but Mon Mothma had seen women with Jelda's expression before. She wondered who needed protecting in that marriage. 

Not that it's my business. I'm glad he's happy. I hope he's happy. 

Mothma smiled as the couple walked over, Madine a step behind Jelda. Now she could see the captain's rank. Interesting. When she'd known him six years before, he was a lieutenant in the Corellian Navy. 

"Senator," he said courteously, bowing his head. 

"Captain Madine," she replied politely. "Mistress Jelda."

Jelda cocked her head at her husband, with a flash of her eyes that promised retribution, but she just smiled at Mon Mothma, "I didn't realize you both had met before, Senator."

"Oh, yes, back on Coruscant years ago," Mon Mothma said, bemused by the competitive probe of their relationship. "The Captain's ship brought me back to Chandrila after the attacks on the Senate."

"Not quite my ship, the Nadia," Madine said hastily. "I was just an officer there. I told you about this, Jelda."

"Ah, yes," Jelda replied, smiling sweetly. "So you did, Crix. But not who -- "

"I'm glad to see you again," Mothma cut her off, smiling at Madine, knowing there was marital hell in his future and nothing she could say would make it better. "Are you on Chandrila long?"

"Not long," he said easily. "I have to report back to my unit in a week."

Mothma saw a trace of frustration pass over Jelda's face. What was the problem? He was a serving officer, and his wife had to be used to this. "And you took time out to come here?" she said lightly. "To the opening?"

"I love glass," Jelda said, sincerely, her annoyance gone in a flash. "Different techniques. When I saw the notice about the show, I knew I wanted to see it."

And dragged him along, Mothma translated. She was startled to hear her husband say, "Well, let me give you a tour." Jei extend his arm. Jelda smiled, laid her hand on it, and they tripped away, leaving Mothma and Madine behind. 

After a second's awkward pause, both relaxed and exchanged smiles. "Do you like this?" Mothma asked waving to the art.

Madine looked around, and gave a reluctant nod. "I like the colors, the red, the gold. I also think of how much damage just one bomb could do in here."

For a breath, Mothma's reaction was properly somber, but it didn't hold. "Honestly, Crix," she exclaimed, her tone a mix of exasperation and laughter, "must you always think of war?" Impulsively, she added, "And what does your wife think of that point of view?"

"She thinks that I should be rising faster than I am," he said with a touch of anger. "And that I could advance faster by pandering to the officers." 

She stared at him blankly, amazed at the bluntness. _He should be discreet. He could wreck his career speaking out like this, even here._ More quietly than he, she said, "That's the way people usually rise."

He shrugged. "I bring in a steady paycheck; she can indulge herself. I enjoy my work most of the time."

"No children then?" she couldn't help asking.

"No. And yourself?"

"No, no children," she replied, her feelings mixed about the answer. She wondered if he could hear it in her voice. She knew Jei would like children but -- well, not a subject for here and now. "Do you want to have lunch before you leave?"

He looked wary. "Is Jelda included?"

Mothma's training overcame her immediate dislike of the idea. "Yes, if you like."

"I'd rather let her shop so we can talk," he admitted, looking out at the crowd that hummed around Jei's newest shimmering red sculpture. "I don't know the restaurants on Chandrila."

Following his gaze, she was amused by the people trying to figure out how to take in the whole curving, slithering knot of glass. "I'll choose a discreet one. It will be nice to catch up."

"I agree." His smile was genuine. 

And so was hers. 

******

He'd taken her contact number and when he called, setting a time the next day, and she'd already chosen a restaurant with a rippled energy screen which would shield them from curious eyes. 

_And is that for him or for me?_ she wondered as she sat in the ornate chair from where she could see the entrance. Her lips curved into a smile at the 'droid waiter who responded with a tight little programmed bow and placed the fragile glassware delicately on the table in front of her. "Please make sure this is charged to my account," she directed. Crix will balk -- she knew his type, but she doubted he could afford this place -- _even without his wife spending his salary on the least of Jei's toys._

She was startled to see Madine in uniform. Eyes followed him as he crossed the room and there was silence in his wake. _This will do my reputation no good._ She considered that as gossip arose louder. _I'll have to explain it to Jei -- someone is bound to tell him._

As soon as he was seated, Madine took off his cap and sighed. "I'm sorry. I had to go to the offices this morning to get some orders and I didn't have time to change."

"You don't need to apologize," she said activating the menu. "All kinds of officers come through Chandrila."

"You won't in the future," he warned as he examined the display. "We're closing down the local militias and navies. The Emperor's orders."

She stared at him. "Palpatine's shutting down the home navies? The Corellian Navy -- "

"Is becoming part of the Empire, yes," he said with a touch of exasperation, adding, "It's safer that way."

"I don't think they'll like that," Mothma murmured, her thoughts in turmoil. Politically, she could see the Emperor's point absorbing the private navies, but with only one -- _the tyranny is growing._

"No choice," he said, not meeting her eyes, "and if there wasn't as much unrest, we wouldn't feel it was necessary. It’s safer. What do you recommend here?"

They both took the opportunity to change the subject and spent a few minutes discussing, choosing and ordering their lunch. That out of the way, both relaxed. 

"So tell me about your husband," he asked unexpectedly. "I didn't hear that you were married until about two years ago."

"You don't keep track of old friends?" Mothma laughed. "Jei's brilliant, cantankerous, talented. An artist. "

"And what do you do?" he inquired. He sipped on his glass of bubbling water, smiled appreciatively. "With your Senatorial contacts -- "

"No, I don't use them," she cut him off then wondered why. Maybe she should have let him think she was still connected with her own life. "I do keep up with the politics on Coruscant but I don't interfere or work -- "

"You just stay home?" he asked incredulously. 

"I'm his --," she gave him a small, very small, smile, "-- personal manager. I play the hostess, manage the records, manage his manager, manage -- "and she hoped he didn't take this differently than she intended, "-- his customers." 

However she meant it. Mothma echoed his earlier words, "It's safer."

The past was suddenly at their table, the attempted assassination that had let to their first meeting on Coruscant. The danger that she'd lived with for so many years that made Chandrila a safe retreat to just -- 

"You're rotting here," he translated her suddenly-revealed dissatisfaction. 

"And what about you?" she asked sharply to change the subject. "Where did you meet Jelda?"

The first smile appeared, curving his lips. "I met her at a party, and well, when I came back from a mission, she was still there and available and… she's so alive. Lively, and very entertaining and well, -- "

"What does she do?" 

The arrival of lunch saved him from replying for a minute or two. 

"Spend money," Madine answered, his enthusiasm failing. "Oh, she socializes and organizes but.. well, socializes. She says it's important to know everyone and where they stand in the hierarchy."

 _A social climber. Is she cheating on him? I can't believe it. Not the way he looks -- STOP THAT._ The sneaky thought was instantly banished though her cheeks felt a slight burn. She sipped on her bubbling water to hide the reaction.

"She'd like to go to a bigger planet - maybe Naboo, to study business, art. What do you think?" he asked. "It might give her more to do."

"Why not? I can introduce her to a contact if she does. I have friends there." 

_Naboo. Oh, I'd like to see her try to impress the royalty on Naboo. They'll eat her alive._ Mon Mothma caught herself again. She wasn't sure why the small woman brought out the worst in her. Maybe it was because she cared about the man across the table, enough to know after one meeting that he'd made a bad marriage. She wondered if he knew it yet.

"I don’t get to that sector often, so I won't see her unless I have a long leave," he said, and then startled Mothma out of her thoughts with, "Maybe she'll go in the art business."

 _Oh, yes, I'll wager she could if she wanted to._ "It sounds like you've made up your mind."

Again he shrugged. "I love my wife but I'm not there much for her. I can't be there more. In the next year - years -- there'll be more work for me, not less. I don't see a totally peaceful galaxy for the next decade so I'll - we'll -- have to put up with it." 

She laughed at that, startling him, leaving them with a moment of awkward silence. "Both of us are making do with our lives, aren't we? Let's talk about something more interesting. Tell me what you've been doing. If your missions are ended, surely you can talk to me about it." 

The conversation flowed into a discussion of politics -- she was surprised to find him much more knowledgeable about such matters than before -- and different planets and systems. 

In fact, she was amused to discover that he was probing her expertise about Nautolan. It had been so long time since she'd had to truly engage the skills from that part of her life. Mothma felt herself coming back to life, like a just watered seed in a sun-parched garden. It was wonderful. She didn't care why he asked, she just was glad he did.

Several hours later, they rose from the table. Madine looked dissatisfied that she'd already paid the bill but, by now, she understood him well enough to know he'd make it up some other way, someday. Well, he could try. She owed him her life; this debt was small credits in return.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Mothma arrived home to find her husband in his workshop looking at a hologram that hovered over the burn marks on a well-used worktable. 

"Jei?"

"A minute," he said absently looking at the figure of a Tholoth woman who waved her hands as she spoke. 

She drifted over to look at the figure. "What is it?" 

Jei froze the image. "Application for a competition. Invitation only. How was your day?"

She started to ask him more, then stopped. After seven years, she could tell when his mind was half-occupied with something other than what he was asking. He'd tell her later once he had found a solution to the problem on his mind. 

"I had lunch…" she said casually, "I had lunch with Crix."

"How was it?" Jei asked. "Where'd you go?"

She was taken aback. He took it more calmly than she expected. "Good. Quite good after I got over his coming in uniform!"

"Oh, there's an explanation for that," Jei said, stunning her. "He's been recalled to duty."

"What? How do you know that?" she asked incredulously. How could her artistic husband know anything about Crix Madine? 

"When I was at the gallery today, I saw his wife," Jei replied, enjoying her surprise. "She came back and was studying my work. So I went over to talk to her and found that she's leaving tomorrow morning to go back to where he's based. She wasn't happy at all." 

Mothma's attention flashed back to lunch and Madine's excuse of his uniform. 'I had to go to get some orders…' Madine had said. So where was he going? She didn't realize she'd said it aloud until Jei answered, "Jelda didn't know but apparently he doesn't tell her things like that."

"Does she ask?" Mothma said, archly; fortunately, her husband didn't notice. 

Jei shrugged. "I don't get the impression that she does - at least not now yet. She's an ambitious woman, Ma. I think she wants to rise but doesn't really know how." He winked at his wife. "She'll find a way though. I know her type."

"Crix'll never satisfy her," Mothma declared, folding her arms. "Did she say why they got married?"

Jei blinked, then roared with laughter. "I didn't ask but the answer's obvious, isn't it?" 

Mothma frowned, puzzled. 

"Sex, my Mothma, sex."

Now her cheeks really stung. "Oh. Of course."

"I used to hear stories about her planet -- "

"Jei!"

Jei quickly put up his hand to stop her fist. He laughed again and put his arm around her waist pulling her close. "She's a pretty woman, my love, but you know I prefer Chandrilan women above all others. They have far more intelligence…and passion."

She leaned into the embrace, enjoying his warmth and strength, then slid her arms around his waist hugging him, and murmured, "My afternoon is free; what about yours?"

He kissed her forehead, then moved downward until their lips met. After a few seconds, he drew back with. "Ah, but I need to concentrate on this application."

"Hmmm. What's it about?" She turned her head away from the soft folds of Jei's shirt. The figure had vanished replaced by an image of a familiar hallway, a curve of a specific wall, a memory that overwhelmed all other thought. "That's… the Chancellor's hallway on Coruscant."

"The Emperor's," Jei corrected as he had so many times. "Yes, he's removed some kind of frieze and has opened a competition to replace it. It's quite a challenge."

Mothma shut her eyes, an image of the way crystal clear in her mind. It had been a gold frieze of a battle, a famous -- "The Jedi," she said aloud, and felt Jei stiffen. Damn. I promised to never talk about them again. "The old frieze was a Jedi victory. I used to walk past it when we had formal meetings."

"Don't mention them, Ma," he insisted looking around. "You know better than that."

 _Here's not safe, Jei? Not safe from spies even in my house?_ She straightened, her hand still at his waist, and distracted him with, "Then you'll apply for the competition?" 

He turned back to look at the hologram. Mothma raised her head to see an abstracted expression on his well-sculpted face. She'd lost him to his art again. 

"Yes..," he said distantly. "I wonder if I can win?"

"Jei," she said quietly. "Jei, I can't go back there." From his glazed expression, he hadn't heard her. Mothma eased herself out of the embrace. "Coruscant, Jei, - I can't go back."

She knew he wouldn't notice, wouldn't respond. His mind was on his contest. The days would pass and she'd make sure he had some food and she'd force him to sleep, but he was possessed by the challenge and it would take so much time to work out of his system. 

Well, she'd spend a bit of that time doing a little research of her own on Jelda's home world and find out what were these sexual techniques that both Jei and Crix apparently knew about, and she didn't. Maybe she'd learn something that could distract Jei from his work at least for one night.

____________________________________________________

Madine felt very relaxed. Jelda was satisfied and so was he, and the bed was large enough for both of them to sprawl amid the well-rumpled sheets. 

"Crix, I want to tell you something," she said, trailing a finger down the length of his arm.

"What have you bought?" he said sleepily. "Can I afford it?"

She sat up, resting on one elbow, "Don't be mean. I want to get a job on the base."

Madine blinked. Of all the things she could have said, this was the last he'd suspected. "A job?"

"Yes," she explained in a patient tone as if he was too slow to understand. "I'm qualified for a job on the base in the Supply department."

"I thought… I thought you wanted to study galactic business and trade," he said studying her face. "Go to Naboo, or even towards the Core worlds and get into business."

Jelda shrugged. Her silver hair tumbled around her face in ringlets that made him want to brush them out of the way. He loved looking at her face. The single perfume jet that remained gave a small puff and he restrained an urge to sneeze. "I want to do something practical. I think I can help there."

His suspicions were aroused although he couldn't put his finger on why. Jelda always had a goal and this sounded too simple for her. "What kind of job is that? What am I paying for -- ouch!"

She had hit him in the bicep. "It's an organizational job!"

"Go on then. You don't need my permission to do it." 

"I know. But I wanted you to know before I accepted," she said rubbing the spot she'd hit. "We don't talk enough."

"We aren't together much," he acknowledged, catching her hand and turning it over, admiring the silver-painted nails. He could still feel the marks of them on his shoulders. "I warned you of that before we got married, Jelda."

She pulled her hand free. "I know, but… you never told me about your Senator."

"She's not my Senator," Madine said his tone sharpening. "I just helped her out on Coruscant."

Jelda's eyes narrowed. "But you never told me how you knew her. I had to find that out from her husband!"

"What, you went back," Madine asked, pulling himself up against the pillows, "to the gallery? Why'd you go back?"

"I wanted to see that beautiful glass again."

"Don't tell me you bought something," he warned her. "There was nothing there we could afford!"

She rolled over, out of the bed, pulled on a filmy robe, and went over to the case. "I got this."

It was the size of his thumb, made of rippled red glass, and seemed to have a burning heart. There was a small loop on one end. When she held it up, over the bed, he could see that it was actually stripes of red and white glass, twisted so it sent out sparkles all over the room. 

He took it, and saw her tense. _Does she think I'm going to break it? It has to be a guilty conscience._ "Lovely. How'd you pay for it?" he said, turning the ornament over in his hands. "Monthly installments -- "

"I paid for it out of what I had," she retorted. "And I walked back here."

That had been several miles, and Madine had to admire her stubbornness. What Jelda wanted she was willing to do what was necessary to get it. "No wonder you're tired," he said then realized his faux pas. “I mean – “

"It was paid in full," she snapped. "I don't have to explain this!"

"After the cost of that renovation on base -- yes, you do," he said sternly. He couldn't really put as much bite in it. The ornament was lovely and if he'd had been not so wound up in his next mission, and, he remembered guiltily, lunch with Mon Mothma, he might have gone with Jelda to buy it for her. "This is worth it, Jelda. This is beautiful." 

She stared at him warily, then sat back down, next to him on the bed, willing to believe his words. She lifted the twist from his hand, held it to the bed light and sparkling prisms flashed around the room. "You really like it?"

"I do. I look forward to seeing it in the new window."

"Maybe you'll be home more. I hear the base is going to be assigned a new general in charge of logistics and supply," she said, her tone hopeful. "That position's been empty too long. Maybe you can transfer into logis…" she read his expression, "no. I guess not."

Madine shrugged. He stroked her knee, his hand going up her leg. "As long as I have what I need for the missions, who cares?"

Jelda shook her head in exasperation. "You don't understand, Crix. It's important to know who's in charge -- " He pulled her forward and she put her hand against his chest to stop him. "No, not now. I'm too tired."

"We leave in five hours," he complained. "We've got time -- "

"For sleep," she said tartly, "and packing." She missed his frown as she padded back to the case to carefully put away the red ornament. 

With a sigh, he leaned back thinking that it was good that he hadn't mentioned that Mon Mothma offered to introduce Jelda to people on Naboo. She would never know what she'd missed. _Supply, eh? That'll keep her busy._

____________________________________

Mon Mothma perused the list of HoloNet articles that she'd subscribed to several weeks earlier. Her flagging interest in galactic events had been revived by the lunch with Madine and she had time to read. Jei hadn't roused himself from his competition piece to notice that she spent her mornings away from him. 

_Then again, had he ever? Yes, before,_ she scanned the quick notes in front of her. _But not the last year or so. He's taking me for granted. What's this?_

One item jumped out at her. Nautolan had applied to the Imperial Senate for help after being attacked by a pirate fleet several times in the last year. Apparently, the pirates had returned a third time to find themselves trapped by an Imperial fleet. 

She touched the item, and a breathless HoloNet report came up about the struggle over Nautolan and the total victory of the Empire's forces. 

Touching another small attached link, a report about an attack on the pirates' hideout appeared. Imperial Special Forces had taken control after a bloody battle that killed most of the defenders. 

_It was a trap for the pirates in both places. The Nautolans allowed the Empire to use their planet as a lure? The Empire must have talked them into it. I suppose their ambassador -- but I know him, so someone else had to do the talking._ She didn't remember the general in charge of the Special Forces but guessed that he had planned both attacks. _Isn't there more to this? Who led the attack on the pirate base?_

She frowned at the scanty HoloNet articles. There had to be more. Why would the Empire have known enough about Nautolan customs to get their acquiescence -- Madine?

She leaned back in her comfortable chair, her thoughts racing. He'd wanted to know about Nautolan culture and politics. He'd been leaving on a mission -- oh, it all fit so well. 

Her lips twitched. She wasn't sure if she was amused or angry, but in this case, his probing had worked out for the best. She had no sympathy for pirates, but she did wish Madine had asked straight out what he wanted to know. _He couldn't have. It might have endangered the mission. Well, that makes sense… unfortunately._

She leaned forward to see if Imperial casualties were listed. None were mentioned in the news accounts. She found that a new general for supply, Bonstable, had been assigned to the Special Forces base where Madine had been assigned, but no list of casualties from the attacks. 

Then, in the middle of a list of commendations for the Nautolan attacks, she found, Captain Crix Madine. 

_Well, he's still alive._ She smiled, running her finger in a circle on the chair's arm. _I'll have to ask him about this the next time I see him. I wonder what he'll ask me about then?_


End file.
